Leerderou
by Clopin K. Trouillefou
Summary: Erik is a child in whish the Froce is strong. He is taken from his home planet by Darth Vader and trained to serve the Empire as a Dark Jedi. But his sympathies lie with the Rebel Alliance and he meets a female Rebel Jedi. Can he escape the Empire and fig
1. Chapter 1

Long, long ago, in a galaxy far away, a war raged between the Empire and the Rebel forces. Anakin Skywalker was dead; Darth Vader had risen and led the Empire under the Emperor. A year had passed since then and on a planet was a boy in which the Force was strong, but no one knew it and no one could train him. There were so few Jedi's left, but it mattered little as he was a slave to a nomadic people. His life thus far was naught but misery and woe; he was deformed on the right of his face. His mother had hated him, given him only a mask and abused him. At nine years, these people who had enslaved him had stolen him away from her. They brought him to intergalactic bars where he earned his captors money by entertaining all that were there. 

Now, the boy named Erik was thirteen and sitting in the cage where he was kept. It was the dead of night, yet his captors sat around a campfire eating and drinking; he longed for some of the food that smelled so good. His keeper, Javert, burst through the tent flap that housed he and his cage; he stared hard at Erik. He unlocked the cage and grabbed the boy, dragging him to his own tent where he beat him. He undressed the boy to assault him and was holding him above the ground by his throat. There was a commotion outside, a black clad figure burst into the tent, its face concealed by a helmet. 

"Are you the leader of this tribe?" it asked, the breathing raspy.

"Yes," Javert responded, "What do you want?"

"I want that boy," was the response.

"This one?" he laughed, "And who are you to be demanding him?"

"I," the figure said, "Am Lord Vader of the Imperial Forces. Now, give me the boy."

"I think not, my Lord," Javert refused, "The boy is mine and I intend to keep him."

"I am willing to pay you for him," Vader offered.

"How much?"

"500 Imperial credits."

"Hmm," he pondered, looked at the boy, then threw him to the ground, "He's yours. Don't why you'd want him."

Using the Force, Vader retrieved a blanket from Javert's bed and handed it to Erik, who wrapped it around himself. They exited the tent, where a small group of Storm Troopers were waiting and with one of them on each side, Erik boarded the small ship after Vader.

The small spacecraft landed in a landing bay aboard a large spherical craft: the Death Star. From there Darth Vader took the boy to the throne room where an old man stood, draped in a long black cloak.

"I have found," Vader proclaimed, "a boy that shows great promise."

"Yes," the Emperor agreed, "The Force is quite strong in him, Lord Vader, I can feel it. From here on out, the boy will be your apprentice and pupil… I too will train him. He will serve as a Jedi of the Dark Side and a Storm Trooper…"


	2. Chapter 2

The years passed and Darth Vader trained the boy in the spare time he had, when he was leading the Imperial troops, the Emperor trained Erik. He was indeed a promising young Jedi; his strength and skills were incredible with the proper training. He was the Empire's best Storm Trooper, his aim deadly and accurate. He wore a black silk mask over the right side of his face to hide the deformities that marred his skin. He had become Vader's and the Emperor's personal guard and most trusted soldier. The two believed Erik to be good enough a Jedi to defeat the galaxy's finest: Obi-wan Kenobi. He, however, was fully aware of the Rebel's plight and his sympathies lay with them. 

Erik had grown to be a tall, lean young man with proportionate breadth of shoulder and chest. His long athletic legs carried his height and weight proudly and silently, his waist trim. His thick black hair waved, curling at the ends and fell past his shoulders, a small wavy lock resting on his forehead above his brow on the left. On the right, his bangs framed his face, falling just past his jaw. The rest of his hair was tucked behind his ears, shining and softer than silk. His face, or rather what was visible, was handsome and well chiseled, his eyes deep and pale. They reflected his every emotion, their color unusual but seductive: pale icy blue with a darker ring around the iris. If it were not for his black silk half mask, he would've been perfect in the eyes of any woman.

Lord Vader and the Emperor were naturally impressed and proud of their little creation. Erik's slender, delicate hands handled any weapon well and wielded his light sabre dangerously; anything could become a weapon in his grasp. As was his habit, Erik was at the Emperor's side awaiting Lord Vader's need for him. 

"Emperor," Lord Vader said, bowing, "A gargoyle Rebel we had captured has escaped."

"Surely," the Emperor answered, "You can take care of this."

"I am afraid not," the black clad figure replied.

"Such a trivial matter," his leader mused, "And you cannot take care of it. Lord Vader, I am disappointed, I taught you better. Erik, go and aid in the search for the Rebel."

"Yes, my lord," the young Jedi/Storm Trooper said, ready to obey any orders.

"Erik," Lord Vader summoned, his ward stopping before him, "A helmet would be of use. I would not risk the Rebel Forces discovering you are not a true Storm Trooper."

"How is that information dangerous?" Erik queried.

"Do not question!" Vader commanded, "Obey, that is your duty."

"Yes, my Lord," he said in response placing his helmet over his head. 

He strode off, disguised as any other Storm Trooper, taking his blaster rifle from its holster. Using his comlink, he contacted the leader of the Empire's soldiers to get information on what it was he was looking for. 

"A gargoyle," the commander said, "A female, icy blue with short black hair. She stands just over five feet."

"Affirmative," Erik replied, "Over and out."

He began running and caught up with the other Storm Troopers and their commander to take over command; escaped prisoners were something he excelled in tracking down. 

"Split up into small parties," he commanded, "Gargoyles are known for their stealth so be on your toes. All of you go in different directions. I will set off independently and search for her. Use caution, gargoyles are fierce fighters and born warriors. Move out!"

As the others set off in separate directions, he rushed off ready and eager to begin the hunt; hopefully he would find her first. He wanted a chance to speak with a Rebel, he tired of hunting and fighting them, of serving the Dark Side. 

A young female gargoyle crept through the Death Star, careful not to be caught by any Storm Troopers. She wasn't actually a gargoyle, she could transform into one, otherwise she was human. She peered this way and that, on guard of attack or capture; this ship was impressive or would be if it weren't a destructive weapon. As she peered from where she crouched, a Storm Trooper caught sight of her.

"You!" he yelled as she turned to face him and took off running.

"Crap," she said as the Trooper took off after her.

She ducked into a doorway leading to a control room with him right on her heels; he locked the door behind him as she ducked beneath a control panel.

"Come out, come out," he called, "Wherever you are."

She wrapped her tail around his ankles and tripped him then made a mad dash for the door only to find it locked. She turned to see the soldier advancing and before she could move, he had pinned both her shoulders to the door. _Maybe I can flirt my way out,_ she thought, she'd heard these guys were clones but they were still men, _Hell, worth a shot!_

"I just want to talk to you, Rebel," he said.

"Really?" she cooed coyly, batting her eyes, "Little me?"

"Come off it," he replied, "How thick do you take me for?"

"Pretty thick!" she answered, kneeing him in the groin.

"Ugh!" he fell to the floor as she tried to run, but he grabbed her ankle and tripped her.

"Don't you guys ever give up!" she kicked off his helmet and gasped.

Good Lord, he was beautiful; thick waving raven locks fell from the helmet as it clattered to the floor. Sweat ran down his face as he panted, his lips thick and sensual, but decidedly masculine. A few stray strands of hair were plastered to his damp forehead, his long hair mussed and disheveled from the helmet. He dragged her across the floor to him, lifting his body so she was beneath him, pinning her arms down.

"Now," he panted, "Are you ready to comply?"

"Maybe," she returned, "Depends on what I'm complying with."

"Just tell me," he took a deep breath to calm his heart, "what I want to know."

"You're not arresting me?" she queried, quirking an eyebrow.

"We'll see," he responded.

"Let me up."

"I will… when you answer my questions."

"You can ask all you want, not that I'll answer you."

"Again, we'll see about that. What is it you Rebels are fighting for?"

"Freedom and new hope for the galaxy, what else? Your Empire represents everything the Senate stood to prevent."

"Are there other Jedi's out there?"

"No, they were wiped out when Palpatine rose to power."

"Palpatine?"

"The Emperor. He represents the Dark Side of the Force… as well as Vader. I believe the Jedi Order fell when the Sith began to rise. Jedi's are supposed to maintain peace, but former Jedi knights joined the Sith. There were only two hundred that could fight in the Clone wars and most were slain."

"Are _you_ a Jedi?"

"Kind of. With so few Jedi left, it's a difficult task. My godfather is a Jedi Master, he taught me as much as he could, but he said I should seek out Yoda. You a Jedi?"

"How can you tell?"

"The light sabre on your belt. But you work for the Empire… you're a Dark Jedi, one of the Sith!"

"No, you don't understand. I don't want to be, my sympathies lie with your forces, the Rebels. This is not my path, not my way."

"If you don't want to arrest me, what do you want?"

"I'll settle for your name."

"Trouillefou… Clopin Trouillefou."

"Permit me, I'm Erik."

He smiled as did she; he was glad to have met her, she was lovely and perhaps he could persuade her to help him. For awhile they just remained gazing into each other's eyes until Clopin heard Storm Troopers rushing by. Boldly, she slipped her arms from his grasp and grabbed hold of his face, tearing away his mask before he could react. She kissed him, long deep and full on the lips, taking his breath away, his eyes wide.

"See you later, Erik," she said, slipping out from under him, "It's been a real slice."

She took off running down the corridor outside after forcing the doors open, leaving him in his previous position, his chest heaving, his mask and helmet on the ground.

At the landing bay, Clopin managed to get past the soldiers and into her captured X-Wing to escape. Darth Vader stood staring after the escaped aircraft, his rage with her escape slowly building up. He turned on one of the Imperial officers and clasped his fist, using the Force to choke the man. 

"Sir," a Storm Trooper called.

"Why was she not caught?" Vader breathed, releasing the officer.

"Erik had had her cornered," he continued, "I and my party last saw him chase and trap her in one of the control rooms."

"Bring Erik to me!" the Dark Lord commanded.

"Yes, sir," came the confirmation as the Trooper set off to find Erik.

Erik still knelt on all fours on the floor, eyes wide, chest heaving as he breathed heavily; he raised two fingers to his lips unable to believe she had kissed him. Suddenly someone grabbed him by the back of his armor and threw him into the waiting arms of two Storm Troopers. Without a word, the three Troopers brought him to face Lord Vader, the one who had grabbed him bringing up the rear with Erik's helmet and mask. They brought him to where Lord Vader was waiting and led him up the three steps to where Vader stood with his back turned toward them.

"We have brought him," the lead Storm Trooper said, handing Vader the black mask.

"You are dismissed," he said, turning to face the group, then looked at Erik, "Erik… I am not pleased you let the girl escape."

"My apologies, Lord Vader," Erik answered, "She was cunning, more so than I expected."

Suddenly, Vader's black gloved fist came and backhanded the boy causing him to fall down the steps.

"You are lying, young one," Vader reprimanded as Erik lay on his back on carpeted floor. 

Erik raised himself up on his hands and knees only to be thrown against the wall. Then a searing pain tore through him as Darth Vader drove the blade of his light saber deep between the boy's shoulders. Erik removed his armor from the waist up as his master and teacher drew out a light whip from his belt and activated it. He was familiar with the drill, it was the same thing every time he screwed up. His punishment was going to be especially painful, possibly the worst he'd ever experienced, today. Erik knelt on the floor, his hands flat, with his back exposed to Vader. The whip bit deep into his flesh, as he bit his lip in an effort to keep his pain silent. He squeezed his eyes shut tight to keep his tears from flowing as his punishment commenced until his entire back was scoured with lacerations.

"I trust you will not let another prisoner escape," Vader said as Erik redressed himself.

"Of course not, Lord Vader," he confirmed, rising to his feet.

"Good," he answered, handing Erik.

"Could I have my mask back?" the boy requested.

"You think your punishment has ended?" Vader queried, "Let all see your hideous deformities, boy. You will remain unmasked until I say otherwise, it that understood?"

"Yes, Lord Vader."

"Now go."


End file.
